


I see you've been busy, Miss Adler

by Lequia



Category: Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms, Sherlock Holmes (Downey films)
Genre: Don't mind me rambling, F/M, Fluff, I absolutely love Johnlock but I just couldn't help myself, Irene being kinda done, Light Angst, Okay it's not just fluff, Post-Sherlock Holmes: A Game of Shadows, Reunion, Sherlock knowing what she's up to for once, Sleep Deprivation, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, they're really cute
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-26
Updated: 2018-02-26
Packaged: 2019-03-24 08:19:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,014
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13807254
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lequia/pseuds/Lequia
Summary: Irene Adler looked as gorgeous as ever, the dark red lipstick she was wearing matching her expensive dress perfectly, complementing her piercing blue eyes, brighter than ever before. Her fair skin was a sign of wealth, her dark brown curls majestically falling over her shoulders. No one would've noticed the slightly purple teint under her eyes, the carefully hidden hounted look in those beautiful orbs, or the tiny and nearly non-existent tremors that ran through her delicate body as she stood in the middle of his apartment.No one but Sherlock Holmes himself.





	I see you've been busy, Miss Adler

Irene Adler looked as gorgeous as ever, the dark red lipstick she was wearing matching her expensive dress perfectly, complementing her piercing blue eyes, brighter than ever before. Her fair skin was a sign of wealth, her dark brown curls majestically falling over her shoulders. No one would've noticed the slightly purple teint under her eyes, the carefully hidden hounted look in those beautiful orbs, or the tiny and nearly non-existent tremors that ran through her delicate body as she stood in the middle of his apartment.

No one but Sherlock Holmes himself.

She saw the minimal change in his face as he entered his flat, keys still in the lock, brows slightly furrowed. His first reaction has been pure shock, stopping his movements completely, a hint of relief crossing is features, followed by anger and, after taking in her appearance, probably deducing every single thing that has happened to her over the last couple of years after her so called death, he seemed concerned.

She has never seen him looking genuinely concerned, and somehow it was all that was needed to break her wall, the suppressed emotions washing over her as she forced a whimper back down her throat, forbidding the moisture in her eyes to fall. She was Irene Adler, for god's sake, a liar, manipulator, seducer and thief. Irene Adler didn't cry. But wasn't Sherlock always the exception?

_I know your weakness, Miss Adler._

She remembered the view on top of the Tower Bridge as vividly as ever, London right before their eyes, the river Thames flowing below, the sound of the water calming her, just like the man beside her, his arm around her back, not touching, never touching, but there.

_What was it, precisely?_

She didn't answer verbally, didn't need to, she knew that he knew, he figured it out in a matter of seconds as she looked into his brown orbs, sadness washing over her, a single rebellious tear escaping her eye and running down her cheek.

_You'll miss me, Sherlock._

He looked away before standing up, about to leave without answering her for probably the last time. But as quickly as his warmth was gone it was back again, right next to her face, a gentle finger wiping away her stray tear, soft lips pressing a kiss onto her temple, his stubble scratching her skin which normaly would've made her giggle, playfully showing him away, but she leaned into his touch instead, eyes closed, savouring the rare moment.

_Sadly, yes._

All of a sudden she felt more empty than ever before, realising what a sick game the universe was playing as she couldn't hear his footsteps anymore, his resigned words an eternal mantra in her head, the softness and unexplainable adoration clearly evident in his voice, a shiver running down her spine at those words.

_Sadly, yes._

She never made it to their dinner after they met again, Holmes trying to sabotage her job as always, Irene desperately trying to save him, to hide him from the mad professor so he wouldn't kill the only consulting detective she ever cared for. Apparently they both tried to save eachother, failing miserably. So whilst Sherlock waited for her to show up, she was lying on the floor of her favourite café, pain consuming her body until she blacked out.

She woke up in a dark alley and ran.

"I see you've been busy, Miss Adler, how was your three year long trip across the world?"

She didn't exactly expect a warm welcome, but his words still hurt, so much that she actually had to keep her body from flinching.

"Not as pleasant as I hoped it to be, Mister Holmes." She tried their usual banter, tried to steady her raspy and broken voice, a smirk on her lips that didn't quite reach her eyes.

"Why are you here," he asked, voice firm and cold in a way she has never heard before, at least not directed at her. Maybe it was already too late, but she wasn't known for giving up.

"I'm tired of running."

His anger vanished in the blink of an eye, previous concern gracing his handsome face once again, eyebrows furrowed in question. She knew that he wasn't the best at reading human emotions and she didn't blame him for not understanding the meaning behind her words.

"I'm turning myself in."

"You can't do that."

Rage coursed through her veins at his nonchalant comment, crossing her arms in defiance. "I can and I will. I may spend the rest of my life behind bars but at least I don't need to run away anymore. As I said, I'm tired."

Irene was utterly surprised at the sudden change in his aura, Sherlock's dark eyes mere slits of anger, his posture intimidating as he took a few steps towards her, his index finger pointing at her as if he was accusing her of another crime.

"No, you won't." His hissed answer left no room for arguing, but she was still Irene Adler, broken or not.

"Yes. I. Will."

She honest to god didn't expect the following outburst, his voice raised to a volume that made her ears ring afterwards, the thief jumping backwards out of instinct, body flinching, the subtle shaking intensifying.

"No, you won't, because they will bloody well kill you for all the crimes you've commited, you stupid woman!"

Oh.

"Really? 'Oh'? is that your brilliant answer? I can't believe you didn't realise the fact that the only punishment that suits your _Mount Everest_ of crimes is, in fact, death!"

His face was beet red, a vein popping up on his forehead as he ran a hand through his hair in an attempt to calm himself. "You'd die, but this time it'd be a permanent condition."

She really couldn't keep in the tears anymore, streaks of liquid running down her cheeks as she silently stood there, eyes shut as she tried to ignore his anger. She was just so unbelievably tired, hadn't slept in days, running away from the people who were after her. In any other situation she would've laughed about the fact that other criminals were chasing her instead of he police, but to be honest, it was a lot worse.

Irene could hear him sigh in defeat, all the pent up frustration leaving him.

"What did you do this time?"

It was her time to sigh, rubbing her temple to soothe her growing headache. "I stole a plan for new guns from an illegal organisation and sold them to another one. I didn't realise that they were enemies, so now they're both after me."

She dared to open her eyes, Sherlock's blanc expression actually causing her to giggle a bit before she put her hand infront of her mouth, stiffling the sound. His eyes were comically widened, mouth slightly opened, the thief supressing the urge to close it herself.

"You're insane."

"And you are a real charmer, Mister Holmes."

It would've been funnier if she wasn't openly crying because of her fatigue or the fact that she didn't particularly enjoy him shouting at her. They stared at eachother, Sherlock taking in her appearance once more, his posture not as intimidating and dangerous as before.

"Alright. We'll find a solution tomorrow, but right now we need to look after your wounds and you need to sleep."

The sudden softness of his voice caused a new wave of tears to gather in her eyes, her sight completely blurred, her cold hands shaking. Her body was betraying her, finally drawing the line at over four days without any sleep or food. She didn't know how it happened, too occupied to keep her balance so she wouldn't embarass herself by falling onto her knees infront of him, but from one moment to the other she was wrapped up in his strong arms, her wet face pressed against his neck, the familiar smell of tobacco, good whisky and his unique cologne filling her nose, making her relax her tense muscles, burying herself deeper into his warm body.

"What do you want, Irene," he whispered so gently she barely heard him, a pleasant shudder coursing through her.

Pictures filled her head of a chaotic flat, laughter filling the room followed by half hearted mean comments and easy banter, smoke from a failed experiment in the air, footsteps echoing on the streets of London whilst chasing a criminal who, for once, wasn't herself. She didn't want a normal life, not really, she would die of boredom after a few months. But a life with Sherlock Holmes wasn't exactly normal now, was it.

Of course, she couldn't tell him. She lost the opportunity of a real relationship with him years ago, she lied to him, betrayed him, manipulated him and on more than one occasion she was the reason why he got beaten up or worse.

She didn't answer, merely tightening her hold on him, subtly indicating that she needed another moment before letting go, wiping away her tears. She sure as hell didn't deserve that man, he was far too good for her. He was the light and she was the darkness, so similar but still entirely different.

They didn't talk whilst he cleaned her many wounds, Irene sitting on a chair in his bathroom in nothing but her underwear, letting him do whatever he deemed necessary. She kept in her whimpers whenever the anticeptant burned, desperately biting her tongue until he wrapped her last large cut in her tigh, delicately stroking her knee to non-verbally say that he finished, draping a soft bathrobe over her shoulders.

"Thank you," she muttered, the hint of a tired smile on her lips. He didn't respond, obviously still not knowing how to react to sincere gratitude, packing away his medical kit instead.

"You didn't really change in these years, did you." It wasn't a question, it was a statement. He looked exactly the same, moved like he did three years ago, and his eyes were still full of an emotion around her she didn't dare name.

"No. But you did. You wouldn't be here otherwise."

"If my memories serve me correctly, I visited you often enough."

She slipped her arms into the sleeves of the robe, thankful for the warmth and comfort it offered.

"That you did indeed, but it's different this time, isn't it?"

Her blood ran cold at his words, her eyes immediately finding his, confirming that he knew what she wanted, what she started wishing and longing for whilst being on the run, at first from Moriarty's criminal network and then from all the trouble she got herself in.

"I don't know what you're talking about, Mister Holmes."

She saw the small smirk on his face, his eyes shining with mischief and humour. "Oh, you sure don't, Miss Adler."

"Are you making fun of me?"

"I would never do such a thing, m'lady."

She found herself stiffling her laugh, the first real, toothy smile gracing her lips after years.

"You are a hopeless liar," she said, still laughing, heart swelling at the adorable face he made whilst trying not to laugh as well but failing miserably.

"Oh, I am the liar now? Excuse me, Miss, but the last time I checked you were the queen of lies."

He didn't intend it to be a punch in her face, and the way he said it she couldn't help but pretend to be offended, hand above her heart in mock shock, her now finally shining eyes betraying her. "The queen of lies? How rude of you!"

This was familiar territory, something they always used to do, whether they were fighting against eachother or on the same side. Sherlock Holmes was a genious, she knew that, and even though he was brilliant, people didn't seem to understand him. Well, except Dr. Watson, he was basically a part of Sherlock, and Irene knew that she didn't fully understand him either, but she didn't need to do so in order to come care for him. To be quite honest, she didn't understand how others could despise him. Didn't they see how amazing he was? Couldn't they guess that his geniousness was the reason for his social awkwardness? And that he, contrary to popular belief, wasn't always an arsehole on purpose?

"I missed you too, you know."

She didn't realise how quiet it has become, both of them just staring at the other. She couldn't keep the corners of her mouth from twitching, a feeling of ease filling her up from head to toe, making her complete. His brown eyes were sincere, welcoming her back into his life after all the mistakes they've made, after all the pain they've caused eachother.

"I never said that," she murmured, eyes starting to fall shut at the silence.

"No, not verbally."

She made a surprised noise at that, forcing her eyelids to open up again, trying to ignore the drowsiness.

"You got better at reading human emotions, then." He chuckled at that, a deep sound that sent warm shivers through her body, making her want to curl up next to him and sleep. When exactly did she turn into such a weak version of herself?

_I no longer acquire your service._

"No, only yours."

"How romantic."

"Don't insult me, Miss Adler." She didn't miss his fleeting smile.

"I wouldn't dare do such a thing, m'lord."

He offered her his arm as she stood, leading her firmly through his apartment to the kitchen area where he sat her down again, even though she protested, arguing that she didn't need a nanny and that she wasn't as weak as he made her out to be. Of course he then decided to list every single injury she had, blood loss included, the side effects of her sleep deprivation and the fact that she needed food or she would fall asleep and never wake up again. He did admit that the last part was overly dramatic.

She understood why some people would want to punch him in the face for his deductions, still, she couldn't help but be speechless and utterly astonished by his skills every single time.

That didn't mean that she didn't want to break his jaw as he held green tea under her nose, said body part scrumbling up in disgust, wanting to rub his self-satisfied smirk off of his arrogant, but sadly handsome, face

"You do know that I absolutely hate green tea, right?"

"Yes, I am aware." He didn't even flinch, his doe eyes as innocent as possible. Irene just continued to stare at him, arms crossed in front of her as he gave her some bisquits to accompany the awful tea.

"Bottoms up."

It didn't take long for her eyelids to revolt again, the warm liquid not helping her to wake up, quite the opposite, the thief fighting a long lost battle against the sleepiness that was consuming her, blinking rapidly to stay awake.

Sherlock was fidgeting with some deadly knives, not only re-creating Moriarty's weapon but improving it, making it even more dangerous than before. She really couldn't figure out why, the consulting detective usually relied on his fists and quick wits alone, using random sticks and wooden planks which were always nearby if needed. His fighting skills were another thing she admired.

She didn't realise that she fell asleep, her head already resting on her arms, blocking the light from her eyes until a gentle hand on her shoulder jerked her awake, causing her to nearly fall off the chair. The world around her was spinning, black dots gracing her otherwise blurry sight, pain shooting through her head like a bullet.

"Alright, Miss Adler, it's bedtime." He was probably talking quietly, but her ears were too sensitive, the woman covering them with her hands which he gently took in his own instead.

"Come on, sweet thing, don't make me carry you."

She let herself be pulled to her feet, grumbling protests which were falling on deaf ears.

"You are the most annoying human being I've ever known, Holmes." He laughed at that, guiding her to his bedroom, her cold hands still in his warm ones.

"The feeling's mutual, my dear."

She was barely awake by the time he tucked her in, pulling soft blankets up to her nose whilst sitting next to her tired form. His deep chuckle filled the air again, making her question herself if she missed some sort of joke.

"You never wanted to turn yourself in, did you," he whispered, and she could hear the smile and the fond shake of his head in his voice.

She didn't answer, instead burying her face into the blankets, hiding her self-satisfied smirk that her carefully thought out plan did indeed work. Being mentally tired wasn't something she did, giving up and therefore losing a fight not suitable with her enormous pride. She could go on for ages, could run for eternity, that was her life. So when she said that she was tired of running, she didn't really mean running away from her enemies, no, it wasn't as simple as that. It used to be a game once, years ago, before their faked deaths, before she felt her blood freeze in her veins as she saw the headline of the newspaper, her breath faltering, sight blurry.

_Sherlock Holmes is dead._

It wasn't a game anymore. She was tired of running away from her heart, her only weakness.

"You didn't need to come up with an incredibly stupid plan in order to stay, you know."

No, she didn't know, at least not for sure. She always knew how to push his buttons, though.

"I'll be gone by tomorrow morning."

She felt the bed give in to his weight as he leaned over her, the feeling of his soft and achingly familiar lips on her temple causing her to sigh, a thankful hint of a smile on her lips, her body tired and in need of warmth which he always provided, hand cupping her cheek, thumb drawing circles on the sensitive skin.

"No, you won't."


End file.
